Chapter 12: Chapter Eleven

The noise in the dark clearing was chaotic. There was a crash from behind her, and to her left, someone roared in anger. The sound of steel on steel clanged in the distance. She wanted to move or call out, but she didn’t know where to go or who would hear. Panic rose in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Gripping her belt knife, she prepared to lunge into the sounds of battle. She sat down hard when lightning flared in the trees. More screams filled the air. Thin strands of branching, blinding light, making the forest suddenly as bright as day burst around her. In the light, she saw figures moving, their motion strange and jerky. A body lay ten paces from her. One flash of light illuminated the red and white of a charred uniform. King's Guard.

She pushed forward, yelling out for Maug, but a hand on her shoulder pulled her down again.

“Sit still, my dear. I’m having a difficult enough time not hitting the good guys as it is.” The man sounded comically calm in the noise and chaos. Even in the blackness, she could tell his clothes and tall hat were outrageously bright. A Vinteran.

“You’re a mage.” She said. He smiled down at her warmly, partially obscured by the tree.

“Well, yes. I think the lightning was a big hint, but even so, jolly good of you to notice.” Another blast of lightning flew from his hands and a man that had been running toward them fell to the forest floor, his red coat smoking. Another yell erupted from their left.

“Maug…” She tried to rise again, but the mage didn’t release her shoulder.

“The elf is fine, my dear. I’ve been keeping a close eye.” He was still smiling at her like they were having a dinner conversation.

“Which elf?” She asked.

“There are two? Oh, dear.” He placed a hand on her shoulder again when she tried to jump up. “I’m kidding! I know you have two companions and they are both fine,” he shrugged. “Mostly.”

This time, she forced her way past his grip. He sighed dramatically behind her. In a slow crouch, she moved toward the sounds of fighting. She heard a grunt and a heavy crash nearby and deciding speed was more important than keeping her head down. She ran toward the commotion. Maug, his nose bloody and swollen, was standing over a dead man in black leather. He smiled when he saw her and gave a little wave, a bloody dagger still in his hand.

“Did you have a nice nap?” He asked and then nodded behind her. “Friendly?” It took Del a moment to see the mage. He had followed her out of the clearing.

“I think,” she answered. The mage tsked. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah, just a cheap shot,” he touched his nose and winced.

“Where’s Albaran?” Maug looked around the clearing. Bodies dotted the ground, some still smoking. Determining if any of them were the ranger would be challenging before sunrise.

“I believe,” said the mage conversationally, “he is over that way.” He pointed farther into the trees. “He took a bit of a knock on the head early on.”

Del made her way carefully into the trees, side-stepping King’s Guard and mercenary bodies. These numbers would have overtaken them without the mage's help. Turning to call back for direction, she spotted a body lying face up under a large bush only a few steps away. His dark skin made his features almost invisible. She knelt beside him. Moonlight glinted off a slick coat of blood covering half his face.

“Albaran,” she said, shaking his shoulders. He sighed quietly, and she felt a tension in her gut lessen she hadn't realized was there. The ranger was not what she would call a friend, but he was her ally and perhaps a little piece of a home she had lost.

“Is he alive?” Maug’s tone was light, but she thought she heard a little tightness in the question.

“Yes, but he’s not conscious.” Del gently probed Albaran’s forehead and scalp with her fingers, moving aside his long hair. There was a knot already forming at his right temple, but she couldn’t tell if that was the source of the blood or something worse. “This head wound looks bad, but it’s hard to be sure in the dark.”

“I may be able to assist,” the mage said, stepping forward. “Healing isn’t my expertise, but it is better than whatever poultice or root you have in mind, I’m sure.” He flourished his cloak as he knelt, wiggling his fingers at her.

“I…we should wait until morning when we can see what is truly wrong.” She said hesitantly. Magic wasn’t something she trusted. The Velli mages she knew were always overestimating their prowess. They knew little of healing and when they tried, it rarely went well. Vinteran mages were just louder and flashier mages, and likely just as arrogant without reason.

"If we wait until morning, he could suffer permanent damage," he said. “I can see well enough to get on with it.” He pulled a small stone from an inner pocket and leaned over the dark elf.

“No…you could hurt him.” She reached out a hand to move him away. The mage sat back on his heels with an exasperated look.

“I will no more hurt him than you will.” He said with a patient tone bordering on condensation. “At best, I will heal him. At worst, I will do nothing.” He looked down at the ranger thoughtfully and then nodded. “Hmm. I see. I assure you, my magic is a…how to say? Different standard than you may be used to.”

Maug stepped up beside her and put a hand on her outstretched arm.

“We should let him help. That wound looks nasty and he really can do more than we could hope to.”

“The Zersapi speaks truth.” Maug flinched at the mention of his home. The mage gave them both odd looks but only cleared his throat. “Yes, well,” he gestured to Albaran, “if I may?”

Del looked back to Maug, and he gave her a reassuring nod. She gave a nod to the mage in turn and he began.

Once the magic was done, the Vinteran sat down with an exhausted sigh.

“I believe I have fixed the worst of it. He needs rest now. And food soon.” He pulled off his tall hat, placed it on the ground beside him, and lay down. He was asleep in seconds.

Del tended to Albaran, cleaning the blood from his face and covering him with a woven blanket she found in his pack, while Maug moved about to check the bodies to make sure all were dead and relieve them of any supplies that may be useful. He came back with an armload of water skins and laid them out on the ground near her.

“They were traveling light, it seems.”

“What happened?” She asked. He looked at her blankly and then shrugged.

“Oh. Well, the Kimes caught up to us, I guess. One minute we were walking the perimeter, I was looking for a nice spot to settle, and then boom, they were on us. I barely had time to draw my daggers.” He shrugged again. “It’s all a blur until the lightning started. Then it’s just a bright blur.”

“I don’t think these were from Kimes. Or not just from Kimes. There are too many,” she said.

She looked down at Albaran. His breathing was steady and light now and the lump on his head was gone. The mage seemed true to his word.

“I’d like to know what he was doing in the middle of it all, though?” Maug said quietly beside her.

“What? Who?”

“The mage. Seems convenient he just happened to show up at the same time we were attacked.”

"Without him, we would be dead or captured."

“Aye. Even so,” Maug said. “I want to know his story.”

“As do I. But first, we should tend to the ranger and ourselves. There will be time for questions in the morning.” She looked up at the dark treetops. “I can’t tell how long that will be in this cursed darkness, though.”

“A few hours at least,” Maug said as Del stood.

“I will find something to make a broth for him when he wakes. You need to rest until daylight.”

“Nah,” Maug waved a hand at her dismissively. “I bet I can find a few more treasures on our friends out there.”

“No.” The word came out harder than she intended it. She took a breath and tried to push away her anxiety. “I have slept. Albaran will be rested as well. You need your rest for tomorrow.” He looked ready to argue, but she cut him off. “Do you really want to be the only one of us with no sleep when we start off in the morning? I mean, I am ok with a slow pace to account for it. I’m sure Al would be too if we asked him nicely.”

Maug gave her a withering look but moved off to a tree and curled up in its roots.

Del spent the next hours tending a small fire, making a weak soup from what was left of their cannis and herbs, and trying not to think of what could have happened. Just before daybreak, Tafa scurried from the woods, her muzzle and claws covered in grime.

“Seems you missed all the excitement, little one.” She cocked her flat blue head to one side questioningly. Del laughed. “No matter. You’re quite a mess. Did you enjoy yourself? Come, let me see you.” Tafa hooted and hopped toward the offered hand.

After checking her over for any injuries and finding none, Del filled a small pot with clean water from one of the savaged water bags and sat it on the ground next to Tafa. She jumped in excitedly, splashing most of the water out.

“You were meant to bathe in that, not play in it.”

“You don’t expect her to listen now, do you?” Albaran’s voice startled Del. She turned to find him propped up on one elbow, watching Tafa splash in the pot.

“I have some broth. It will probably taste terrible, but you are supposed to eat,” Del said.

“Supposed to?”

“The mage advised it.”

“Mage?”

“You may have missed some things while you were out.” She brought a small bowl over and sat down on the ground across from him. He sniffed at the steaming brown liquid before taking a sip. To his credit, he only pulled a small face.

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“Tell me.” He said, before taking another small drink. She recounted the happenings of the night before. By the time she was done, the darkness around them had taken on a gray hue.

“You let a Vintera mage use his magic on me?” Albaran growled. The broth seemed to be doing him some good. His eyes were brighter and his skin less ashen.

“Wasn’t a lot of choice. He saved us, so I had little fear of him doing you harm. And your wound was severe, Albaran. There would have been little I or Maug could have done.” She hesitated. “I think this may be another shortcoming of our teaching.”

She felt a pang of guilt. But he only nodded thoughtfully and felt the place on his head where the lump had been.

“It would not be the first one,” he said quietly. “But those are thoughts for another time. We must get moving. Where is Maug? And this mage…what did you say his name was?”

“She didn’t.” The mage walked around a tree and into the clearing. “She didn’t say because she never asked. Quite rude if I do say so myself. But, given the circumstances, I will forgive the transgression.” His broad smile wilted when neither of them reacted. “Fine,” he huffed, “I am Shorgus, mage extraordinaire from the grand land of Vintera.” He removed his hat, waved his cloak, and bowed in one fluid movement.

In the dim light of morning she could see his features more clearly. Neat, close-cut blond hair with a matching mustache, and a long, elegant face. His clothes were yellow and pale green and his cloak was a rich purple.

Del glanced sidelong at Albaran, but he was just staring at the mage in disbelief, or maybe disgust. It was sometimes hard to tell with him.

“Yes, well…” the mage began, but stopped when Tafa gave an especially large slash and jumped from her pot. His dark eyes went wide. “What is this creature?” he breathed.

Del moved forward to grab Tafa, but the mage was too quick. He was kneeling beside the komarak, staring at her.

“It is…it is…beautiful,” he exclaimed. “I’ve seen nothing like it. Such color, and those eyes, so intelligent and expressive.” Tafa gave a small hoot and sat up on her hind legs to get a better view of the strange man. He grinned at her stupidly. “Is it yours? May I…touch it?” He put one finger out toward Tafa experimentally.

“Uh…,” Del was a little taken aback. “She is mine, yes. You can pet her if you wish. On the head or spine, though. Stay away from her wings. She will bite you if you touch them.”

“Oh, oh…” He exclaimed as he ran one long slender finger timidly over Tafa’s broad flat head. “Wings you say? I’ve never seen wings like this.” He spoke quietly and ran a finger down the spins on Tafa’s back.

“Well…they are supposed to be…” Del hesitated. “Her wings never grew in properly.”

“Oh, oh you poor thing,” he crooned at Tafa, who had decided anyone ready to give her this much attention was good enough and was chirping softly, leaning into the soft touches. The mage looked beside himself with glee.

“She gets by alright…” Del glanced down at Albaran again. He was looking quite bemused by the mage.

“You must tell me where she comes from. What is her name? Does she have magic?”

“She is a komarak from Bellon and no, she does not have magic. At least…I don’t think so.”

“Ohhh. Oh.” The mage turned his head this way and that, looking at the little creature while he continued to pet her. Tafa had closed her eyes and hummed softly.

“Hehm.” Maug cleared his throat behind Del. She let out a gasp when she saw him. Both his eyes were black, and his nose was still red and swollen.

“You should let me tend to that,” the mage said, eyes still glued to Tafa.

“No,” Maug actually covered his nose as if the mage was coming at him right then. “It’s fine. No real damage.” He said from behind his hand.

Shorgus just shrugged and started gently cooing at Tafa. Maug must have seen the look on Del’s face when he came to sit beside her.

“There aren’t a lot of animals in Vintera or Zersapi, and almost all the ones there have some sort of magic purpose.”

“Right you are my Larchpaw friend,” Shorgus said.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“I would be delighted to call you something else, but the only name I know here is this little one’s.”

Maug made introductions. He gave his full name, and to her surprise, introduced Albaran by his proper name as well. She was grateful he just stuck with Del for her. The mage nodded solemnly after each name.

“So am Aurelian who doesn’t look like she’s ever been to Aurelia, a Larchpaw trying not to be, and a beautiful Velli where none have been in a generation.” He nodded thoughtfully. “I knew those soldiers would lead me somewhere, but this is certainly more interesting than a missing noble.”

“Missing noble…” Maug started.

“You followed the soldiers?” Albaran spoke over him.

The mage just nodded his head and offered no more explanation. It had been a long, long day and night, and now another equally long day was upon them. She barely had the mind left to consider the right questions, much less ask them.

“I am going to gather some more broth and water. We can have breakfast and you can tell your tale.” Without waiting for an answer, she went back to the small fire and filled three more cups of the cannis water. It would be filling and it was better if it didn’t go to waste. She grabbed a small loaf of bread for them to split.

The mage refused the cup but accepted the piece of bread gratefully. He produced his own silver cup from under his robe and a small packet of powder he mixed with water. It made a thick, grayish soup that smelled of smoked meat. Del tried not to be too bitter about how good it smelled while she sipped her bitter, weak brown broth.

After the mage had swiped the last of the gravy from his cup with his bread, he sat the cup down beside him and laughed delightedly when Tafa sprang on it, licking at the gravy on the rim.

“Tafa…” Del admonished.

“That is quite alright,” he said dismissively. “That is, if she is allowed to have it.”

“There’s very little her type won’t eat,” Albaran said. Del thought his disgusted tone was a little ironic, seeing as he was finishing off the mage’s cup of broth and had asked for more bread…twice.

Shorgus caught his tone and glared in Velli's direction. He pointedly drew another small packet from his pocket and filled the cup again, sitting this one down in front of Tafa, who squealed with joy and planted her entire face in the sticky gray soup. Albaran scowled and Del tried to hide her laugh in a sudden cough. The mage winked at her.

“Yes, well,” Maug said gruffly. “You were going to tell us exactly how you got here last night on the tails of a whole contingent of King’s Guards.”

“Ah, yes,” the mage said. “Well, I was in a small town called…what was the name? Markle, Mackrel? Oh, it’s of no import, I suppose. A small town like every other small town between here and the border. Anyway, I was following the scent of a lead. A good lead, too.”

“A lead?” Del asked.

“Yes. On the missing noble. It is on every lip. I was in Vintera when I first heard a whisper of it. A very wealthy, possibly royal, young boy had been kidnapped. The information was a bit unclear, but the reward was not.” He smiled ruefully. “Surely you have heard of it yourselves?”

Maug groaned.

“Yes, well,” Shorgus continued. “I had just heard the young man had been spotted in a village to the east. Not two days from where I was. I was heading out rather late to get a jump on the other hunters, you see. There seem to be a lot of them. Odd that really. It is a lot of coin, of course. Even so, odd for nearly every guard, mercenary, and board farm hand to be involved.”

“And the attack comes in where…?” Albaran asked dryly.

“Ah. I was heading out after dark, as I said, and I happened to see a large group of King’s Guard in their flashy red and with them a pack of mercenaries. Not so unusual these days, but these appeared agitated and were giving the poor stable master a tongue-lashing about reading their mounts. And the mercenaries didn’t look to be working for the guard, but rather the other way around. Now that is not something you see often at all, even in these times…”

“Ahem…,” Albaran cleared his throat loudly.

“Well now, I had a choice, didn’t I? I could follow on with my lead to the east, or I could see exactly what had these dark men in such a stir. It’s no secret they’ve been looking for this royal boy as well, you know?”

The mage produced another small cup from his pockets, this one a pale pink, and filled it with water from his skin. The water took on a deep amber color when it hit the cup. Shorgus’ mustache twitched as he sniffed the contents of the cup. He drank deeply and sighed.

“Yes, anyway. I made the obvious choice and followed the pack of bad guys. Imagine my surprise when they headed straight into these woods. I almost turned back then.” He raised his arms dramatically. “I am equipped for many things, but camping does not number among them. Still, in for a penny, as they say.”

He filled the pink cut again and offered it to Albaran with a charming smile. The ranger just stared at the mage, who shrugged, still smiling playfully.

“How did you manage to hide from so many guards?” Albaran asked suspiciously.

“I’m a mage.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, next thing I know, they are attacking what I assumed were some poor wayward travelers. I am delighted to find you are much more interesting than I originally thought.”

“You attacked an entire platoon of soldiers? And for strangers you had no idea where deserving of the assault or not?” Maug asked.

“Of course I intervened.” Shorgus seemed hurt by the question. “First, it wasn’t an entire platoon, and second‌, as I said, they were coupled with some very seedy-looking mercenaries. It was an easy guess they were up to no good. I assume you are happy with the outcome despite your questions about the sanity of my decisions?”

“Of course we are…” Del began.

“Good. Then I would be happy to travel with you.”

“You…want to come with us?”

“Of course I do,” he said cheerily. “I know an interesting adventure when I stumble into one.”

“No. I mean, we are grateful, but you can’t…” Del tried to find words that wouldn’t insult the man who had just saved all their lives.

“It is a good idea. You can travel with us,” Albaran said as he stood up and began collecting his things.

“Sorry, what?” Del said at the same time Maug said, “Are you insane?”

“We need to keep moving, and arguing is only going to slow us down. He’ll just follow us. It is obvious someone is tracking our movements, and we should expect another attack before reaching Kingsland. Having the mage will help with defense and vary our party. He could go where we can not.”

Maug opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Del understood. Albaran was right, of course, but the idea of adding another to their party was daunting. They knew next to nothing about the mage.

“And when exactly did you become the one to make all the decisions, Al?” Maug asked, finally finding his voice.

“Do you have reasonable objections to what I’ve said or do you just want to hear your own voice?” Maug sneered at the ranger but remained quiet. “And I am not the decision maker here. Evandella is.”

“No, no I am not,” Del said.

“You are the highest ranking member among us, even if you deny the claim. You are…”

“Yes! Thank you Albaran.” she interrupted.

“Ohhhh…I knew this was the right choice!” The mage exclaimed, clapping his hands. “What are you hunting? Is it treasure? And where did you come from? And how is it you are the leader? The highest member of what, exactly? Is it a secret group?” There was glee in the mage’s questions. Maug groaned beside her. Even Albaran looked to be regretting his previous comments.

“Okay.” Del rubbed her temple with one hand as she spoke. “No more questions.” The mage frowned but remained silent. “You said the soldiers rode into the forest? Do you know where they left the mounts?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is it far?”

“Not very, no.”

“Will you show us?”

“Can I come with you?”

“To the horses? Sure.” The mage gave her a playful smile and sat back against the tree behind him, waiting. “Oh, fine. If you lead us to the horses, you can come with us.”

“Seriously?” Maug asked quietly.

“The horses could save us days and Albaran’s not wrong. We could use him.”

“And if he’s a spy? A plant? This whole attack could have been a setup to get us to trust him.”

“You think twenty men agreed to a horrible death so they could plant a spy?” Albaran rolled his eyes. “Wymar is not that important.”

“Who’s Wymar? Is that who you are hunting?” Del looked at the mage and he put a finger over his mouth and sat back again. She turned to the ranger.

“Albaran, please try to be more…discreet?” He nodded. She was happy to see he even looked a little abashed. “We will go get the horses, then continue on to Daybridge as planned. Shorgus can come with us if he keeps the questions to a minimum. Just know we are not out to harm anyone, but there will be many people out to stop us. Many people. You will be in danger if you come. Are you sure you want that?”

“It sounds perfect,” the mage declared happily.

Del gathered her things from around the camp, taking her share of the looted supplies. Finally, she retrieved a sleeping Tafa from the mage’s silver cup. She had dried flaky gravy all over her face, head, and chest.

“I can help with that,” Shorgus said. With a wave of one hand, he cleaned the cup and Tafa then winked at Del before pocketing the cup. Del placed the clean Tafa in her hood and they set off into the woods again.